Harry Potter And the Order of the Phenoix
by Rolith
Summary: An athors's rendering of how I think HP5 will turn out...


Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix   
  
Chapter 1: Letters From Someone   
  
The gray morning hadn't yet started to dawn as Harry looked out the window down to the street where the street lamp still lit a circle of pavement below it. The boy,   
who's unkempt black hair seemed even more untamable after a night's sleep, sighed deeply watching the dreary clouds slowly drift overhead.   
  
His hand brushed through his hair out of habit, and knowing full well that it wouldn't do any good. He sighed and went back and sat on his bed, his hand still holding back   
his hair away from his forehead. This allowed a thin, lightning shaped scar to show itself. He sighed again, a bored and impatient sigh as his eyes still focused on the   
window across the room. He almost stood again, but stopped himself.   
  
Harry wasn't usually like this. He'd been rather nervous and anxious ever since returning from school two weeks ago.   
  
"Has it really been only two weeks?" Harry spoke his thoughts out loud, his hand rubbing his scar, his very unusual scar, and remembered the events of the pervious year   
as if it were a dream, and now he'd woken up into a nightmare.   
  
His eyes closed for a moment, then blinked and were back to looking out the open window.   
  
"Two weeks, and it's been well over a week since I've heard from anyone!"   
  
Harry fumed and gave up on restraint and stood and started pacing. He rung his hands together, and thought about the last letter he had received. It hadn't been a letter,   
but more like a note scribbled almost too fast to be legible. It was written by his godfather, the fugitive Sirus Black.   
  
Harry,   
  
I'm still in England, But am afraid due to reasons no doubt you'll learn about soon enough, I can not visit as promised. I am sorry, and Let me tell you I'll miss seeing   
your aunt and uncle's faces as much as you will. I've got to go.   
  
Sirus   
  
And that was it. The last time he had heard from anyone else was on the train ride home. His heart was aching for contact from someone. This wasn't helped by his aunt   
and uncle, who treated him as if he were not there. They glanced the other way if he walked into the room, and if he made eye contact, they'd flinch and stand and leave.   
  
First, harry had tried to write Sirus black, but Hedwig, his owl returned 3 days later, with the letter and no reply. She looked at him apologetically, and seemed to want to   
tell him something but obviously could not.   
  
He'd waited almost a week before he tired to call Hermonie, mainly because he knew he'd get a talking to when Aunt Petunia found the number on the phone bill.   
Apparently they where out of country, visiting relatives in America. Harry sighed. That night, two nights ago, Harry had sent a letter to Ron.   
  
Two nights. It never took two nights for anything to travel by owl post between Ron and him.   
  
Harry's finger traced the scar while still pacing back and forth, not caring if anyone heard him up. Then, there was a flutter, and a hooting sound in the distance. Harry   
immediately looked up, and caught site of his White snowy owl flying towards his window, a letter held in it's beak.   
  
"There you are!" Harry called, knowing full well that he probably just woke the entire house, if not most of the street, and not caring for an instant. The bird fluttered into   
the room and hooted affectionately as he stroked her feathers and took the letter.   
  
Harry   
  
Hey, I got your letter, and sorry it took so long to respond. I had to talk to dad about some stuff before I actually wrote you. There's something big going on, but I think   
I'm going to have to agree with dad that I'm not the one to talk to you about it. Supposedly Dumbledore well be coming to see you soon, but I am not sure I am even   
supposed to tell you that. Anyway, yeah, Harry, your more then welcome here, and I'm certain you'll be able to come soon enough.   
  
I'm sorry this letter is so short. I'll write you again when I get a chance to use the owl, he's been kept busy.   
  
Ron   
  
"That's it?" Harry asked no one, and went back to pacing. What is going on? He thought to himself furiously, running his hand through his hair impatiently, and pacing   
quicker then before. The sky outside was starting to lighten more, but there would be no sunrise in it's heavy overcast. Harry returned to staring out the window   
worriedly, and he lay back down on his bed, wondering if he could get to sleep before his aunt would be at the door to wake him up.   
  
He closed his eyes and thought tiredly of the next few months his hair settled down back over his old scar, and he was completely oblivious to the owl that floated into his   
room, carrying a letter with a familiar seal on it. He didn't notice it, that is, until the owl dropped it on top of him and hooted loudly.   
  
"All right, all right!"   
  
Harry, kept his eyes closed and sat up slowly, blinking finally, and notching the seal. There was no address on it and the owl had already left. He opened the letter slowly,   
and unfolded it.   
  
Harry Potter,   
  
It read in a fancy script, unknown to harry,   
  
As I'm not sure if you're aware there is a great awakening in the world of witchcraft started by the rise of Voldermore to his former self. The reaction has been surprising,   
to say the least. There is much to discuss but little space to do it in this letter, suffice to say there's been a mobilization of people that you need to be informed of. If your   
aunt and uncle permit, (and I'm sure they will) please arrive at Mrs. Figgs house this afternoon. If not you will be informed what to do later.   
  
Sincerely   
  
Mr. Lupin   
  
"Why did he do it so formally? What is going on?"   
  
"So you're awake." It was Uncle Vernon, stairing at him from the open door of his room as Harry was reading the letter again.   
  
"Yes,"   
  
"Something's wrong in your world isn't there, you've been jumpy lately. As much as I don't like to say this, I don't think any of us want's to see you dead. He's back isn't   
he?"   
  
Harry's jaw dropped, this was the most blunt his uncle had been about Magic. Harry handed him the letter silently, without saying a word. There was a sort of 'hermph' of   
disgust at the thick parchment before he started reading.   
  
"You're going," Harry was startled, and nodded silently. He was too shocked at his uncle's attitude, much less the last few weeks, to think clearly any more. 


End file.
